


Between the Doors

by InsominiacArrest



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Eventual Smut, Getting Together, Hotels, Humor, M/M, Past Domestic Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-10
Updated: 2016-04-10
Packaged: 2018-06-01 11:07:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,905
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6515977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InsominiacArrest/pseuds/InsominiacArrest
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Simon is running from a domestically abusive relationship, and starts checking in at the hotel Dumort to disappear</p><p>Raphael is a the late night clerk saving up to go to grad school and very suspicious of the brunette young man who keeps checking in under names like 'Gene Milder,' and 'Dr. Loving'</p><p>An accounting school drop out and a minimum wage worker should not start sleeping together, but it's almost a romantic comedy about losers falling in love</p>
            </blockquote>





	Between the Doors

Raphael took note of him by the third visit. He had haphazardly raised brown hair, a curving mouth in motion and round glasses that hid a pair of thick eyebrows.

Raphael looked him up and down, he didn’t look different from any other college student drifter or young professional staying the night. Just worse for wear and with the a moth eaten look to his clothing and circles blooming under his eyes like dark imprints of rain clouds.

What stood out were the names: Ruth Bates-Ginsburg (seriously), Lance Footweak (really).

“Dan Dell-Louis,”

Raphael drops what’s in his hands and blinks irritably. “Is that so?” He tried to act nicely. As in, without baring his teeth.

“What?” He chuckled weakly, “a guy can’t be named after one of the best actors of all time?”

Raphael sighed deeply, “this is a well-respected establishment sir.” They didn’t need any illegal business in their rooms.

“Oh I know,” ‘Dan’ fidgeted from side to side, “your sheets are...like the least suspect I’ve ever encountered, like only two mysterious stains and not a single murder or prostitute winking at me saucily in the hallway to convince me to relinquish my purity for a fistful dollars on these cold, lonely nights.”  
  
Raphael gives him a stony look, “that’s quite a...picture you've painted.”  
  
“And the gold couches in the rooms are totally not tacky and uncomfortable either….okay they are, but that adds to the charm, much like the lovely front desk staff.” He leans on the desk and smiles creakily.  
  
Raphael frowns, “are you flirting with me?”  
  
Simon scrunches his neck up as he jerks his head up, putting a hand through his hair, “No." He looks around, "'less that will that get me a room? Because you are looking very,” he seems to search the air before refocusing on Raphael’s face, “dark. And grim and kind of angry all the time? But in a total good way.” He back tracks at the end.

'Dan' seemed to put his foot in his mouth at a higher speed than the lady in 210 asked for room service (it was quiet fast), Raphael sighs and reaches for his computer, “will you take a room on the 4th floor? Though I should mention it is _by the highway_.”

He nods enthusiastically, “I can’t believe that worked….”  
  
“I was hoping it would stop you Mr. Louis.” Raphael clarifies.

‘Dan’ snorts and hands him a credit card (it looks suspiciously new), “always a pleasure…” He squints at his name tag, “Raphael.”  
  
Raphael hands him his key card, and ‘Dan’ drags his suitcase away from the front desk and towards the stairs without looking back.

The last glance of his face looked old and somber, a shadow crossing his light features and Raphael takes note of him.

*******

Raphael asked around about the mysterious boy who came in every other night under a fake name. Apparently he showed up two weeks ago with blood on his shirt and breathlessly asking for any room they had. He stayed for 3 nights and paid all in cash when he left.

He returned a couple days later, cleaned up, but pale and quiet, which did not sound like the young man. Always under a different ridiculous name, and always at night.

This all heightened Raphael’s suspicions. Something was off about this, and perhaps some type of fraud or identity theft.

He was not one to put his nose where he didn’t belong however, but he kept himself alert for any time he might have to step in.

‘Dan’ checks out two days later during Raphael’s shift.

“I hope you enjoyed your stay Mr. Louis.” He says dryly as he takes the room key back.

“It was a top notch room service.” He snaps his fingers at him, “and I didn’t even think about what the room might look like under a black light." 

“I’ll see you again,” Raphael says pointedly, ‘Dan’ meets his gaze.

“You might.” He replies softly and then turns around at 4 am and disappears into the rising sun of the city. He didn’t understand.

 

***********

 

“Andy Peacedrag,” Raphael wants to bury his face in his hands and groan. He was back.

 

“Is that so?” He says as routinely. It was midnight and young man was pale and his fingers twitched on Raphael’s desk periodically.

It was Tuesday and Raphael had kept busy by cleaning up and thinking of his savings account as the minutes ticked by in grueling sluggishness.

“Yep. Lemme tell you, I was definitely bullied in elementary for the Peacedrag name. Had to fight ten bullies off at once but with the power of friendship and shitty 90s movie gumption I overcame.” It’s like his mouth was a motor that just kept running.  
  
“I hope you are joking.”  
  
‘Andy’ gives him a surly look, “ _no_.”

They face off and Raphael doesn’t break their eye contact as he tries to take this man apart. Figure out what his ploy was.

“Now. I want your shittiest room like last time, and I want it now.” He snarks and bangs his fist lightly on Raphael’s desk, Raphael looks down at the display devoid of amusement.

“I’m afraid all of our rooms are taken for tonight.” He responds dryly. “We are very busy.” The area was completely empty and ‘Dan/Andy/this young man’ got the message.

“Look…I promise I’m not some handsome criminal running from the law. I just need to stay somewhere while some things get sorted out.” Raphael opens his mouth slowly.

“Regardless, I think you should take your business elsewhere.”

‘Andy’ leans forward and says lowly, “are you authorized to do that?” He scowls, “I want to speak to a manager.”  
  
A smile spreads across his face like a slow growing tree of paradise, and leans forward so their faces are inches apart, he savors every word, “I am the manager.”  
  
He watches the man's hands bawl up into a fist on the desk. “Fine.” He spits and turns on his heels.

He exits with his red battered bag that looked like it held all his worldly possessions and Raphael buries any second thoughts he might have.

*******

He is back that Thursday, running into their lobby, hair a mess and vividly panicked. Raphael opens his mouth to dismiss him, but the young man seems distracted.

“Shit, shit, _shit_ ,” he’s looking around frantically, turning to Raphael in one fluid motion, his face slack and eyes darting around like trapped fireflies, “promise I'm not breaking your dumb rules, I was just in the area and she saw me....Can I hide behind your desk?” It sounded desperate.

 

Raphael arches an eyebrow, “What? No.”

He approaches the desk and his eyebrows form an upward V. He looks young, far too young. “ _Please_.”

The young man glances towards the front doors, his body tense and feet set wide. Raphael grips the pen in his hands more tightly, he jerks his head to the side and gestures for him to come to the locked door.

 

The young man runs to the wooden entrance way and darts into the staff area. He crouches beneath the desk right by Raphael’s leg. He is covering his mouth to stifle any heavy breathing.

No sooner was he hidden then when the clicking of heels resounds on the lobbies tiled floors. She comes into the building in a swoosh of dark hair and acid eyes.

 

“Camille.” Raphael breathes softly.

 

"Simon!” The slim women calls, “Simon I saw you!” She roars into the area.

 

Raphael sets his jaw and feels his teeth grinding. She looks around in a methodological manner, behind their couches and stand alone fireplace in the lobby.

 

Finally, she turns to the front desk, and Raphael stiffens.

 

“Raphael,” she says with twitch of her lips, she recognized him.

 

“Camille.” He dips his head at her.

 

“It’s good to see someone familiar.” She expresses with a flip of her hair, “I have,” she tilts her head and approaches him with a smile, “someone I’m looking for.”  
  
He feels Simon shift next to him.

 

“Well.” Raphael says impassively, “We have a lot of people coming through here.”

 

Camille clicks her long nails on his marble table. “He wouldn’t be hard to spot. He’s using ridiculous false names.”  
  
Raphael cocks his head to the said and says lowly, “a lot of people come through here.”  
  
“Are you sure? Forest Whitaker, Nic Free, anything like that.” Her eyes narrow at him.

 

Raphael glances down at Simon, his eyes are round and brown, the circles under his eyes were not from sleep-deprivation. A shoddily covered bruise was outlined and Raphael felt a pang of guilt in his gut.

 

“I haven’t seen anything like that.”

 

Camille’s lips finally pull downward, “really.”  
  
Raphael dips his head, turns back to his computer, trying to indicate he is in fact ignoring her.

 

“Well, if you see him,” she says slowly, “he has a precious little boy face, a good build, glasses and a real...deer in the headlights look to his eyes.” She twirls her hair and coos, “my little caramel.”

 

Raphael nods, “I’ll keep an eye out Camille.”

“And Simon!” She barks to the air, “we are _not_ done.” She turns on her stiletto’s and stalks out the door.

 

Raphael releases a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

 

He glances down at him, “Dios Mio.” He breathes.

 

Simon slides his legs out from under him and seems to buckle into himself, running his hand through his hair and putting his full weight on the wall next to him.

 

“Deez meo. I hear you.” He mumbles and Raphael shakes his head.

 

“Camille...is bad news.” Raphael observes and looks to try and pat his shoulder, or anything really. He stays in one place.

 

“You’re telling me.” His voice is halting and almost pained.

 

Raphael lets him stay there, still and lost in his own thoughts as Raphael takes care of more customers.  
  
Finally, at 2, when he is sure Camille would be nowhere to be found, he kneels down next to Simon.

 

He holds up a key card to him, “here.” He shoves it into his hands roughly.

 

“What’s this?”

 

“It’s a suite. First floor. On the house.” He doesn’t meet Simon’s eyes as he presents it.

 

“I,” Simon seems to choke, “can’t accept that.”  
  
“You can, I already check you in Mr.” he cringes, “Peacedrag.”

 

Simon laughs, “I can’t believe I got you to say that!”

 

Raphael exhales tersely, “stay as much as you… have to.”  
  
“You can’t do this...are you possessed?” Simon asks as he tugs on his pants leg.

 

“I may be,” he moves his eyes to him, “harsh. But I am fair Simon. I am not going to leave someone out to dry.”  
  
Simon chuckles to himself moresly, “it’s kind of pathetic isn’t it? Hiding in a hotel called freaking death, honestly the stupidest hotel name my guy, and cowering behind a desk.” He snorts, "Dumort." Simon looks at his hands and Raphael reaches for him.

 

“I wouldn't use the word pathetic.” He says sternly with a frown.  He helps him up and hands his bag to him.

  
“Ask for Raphael if you need a room again.” Simon nods at him hesitantly and Raphael looks his back as it retreat down the hall, shoulders hunched and dragging his bag behind him like it was the boulder of Sisyphus. Raphael decides to watch out for him.


End file.
